Survivor
by EarthandNadia
Summary: It was easy to tell someone to be strong when they were the ignorant one. She knew she would never get to experience the "normal" life again, the truth missing in her mind. There were things she didn't know that would come as a surprise. She was stacked high only for them to knock her down, but at least she wasn't alone. First in the Drifted Series. Hiatus.
1. Hellhole: Turn Around Part 1

Hello and welcome to my first Supernatural story. I love that show and I've always wanted to write for it, but you know, Doctor Who always comes first in my book of shows and I never had the time to push myself to write for it until now. So here we go!

-D.S- This will be the scene break, whenever it occurs.

* * *

The Drifted Series  
Supernatural: Survivor  
Episode: Hellhole  
Chapter 1: Turn Around [Part 1]

* * *

Life couldn't have played a crueler joke on her. She did nothing wrong, so why did it seem like everything and everyone was against her? She had no one left, no one that hadn't left or fell to whatever god-forsaken place they went to after leaving this hellhole. Sometimes she just wanted to leave it all behind and fly free.

"Ms. Woodington?"

She looked up to the see the face that constantly butted into her life for the past ten years, something she had grown to hate having to see, knowing why it was there, "Detective Reynolds," she simply said, fixing him with the blank expression she had learned to turn to when dealing with him.

"Would you mind answering some more questions?" Reynolds said as he sat down in the chair across from her, which she had figured out long ago why detectives and policemen did that, they wanted to feel more intimidating.

"I already answered your questions," she replied, "Why do I have to do it again? You've basically asked me the same questions over and over again for the past ten years since this charade all began," she smirked, "You think you can win this game of cat and mouse? I don't think so…do you know why?" she chuckled half-heartedly, "Because I don't know what happened to them. If I did, I surely wouldn't be chaining myself to this town, now would I? Oh!" her lips twisted into a mocking smile, "Look at that, case solved, let me go back to my apartment."

Reynolds just looked at her, "That's understandable," he nodded, "However, you must look at the solid facts. For the past ten years there have been waves of unexplainable deaths. First was Katherine, your mother, who was found hanging inside her closet. After some studying, we ruled it as a suicide. Next, Matthew's death, your father, five years later."

"I know how they died," she cut in hotly, "You don't need to reiterate that for me."

"He was found with a pistol by his side, his blood from the head wound staining the bed, luckily missing the note that was stuck to his forehead labeled "Forever"," he opened the file in front of him and peered at it for a moment, "Three weeks ago from today your brother Jack turned up missing, am I correct?" he took a breath, "Then he suddenly appeared again two days ago, his throat slit open, the knife not too far from where those two gentlemen found him….not too far from your house."

"I find it sad how you're blatantly accusing me of murdering my own family," she interrupted, "The only reason why you think it was me is because I'm the last one standing, which makes this whole thing seem so easily, just one step away from proving to the community that it was I, Rachael Woodington, who killed her parents and brothers and made it seem like suicide," she crossed her legs and shook her head, "I could sit here all day and tell you that I didn't do it, I know I didn't do it, but you don't care for that," she bit her lip, "You won't find any other evidence, none that point to me, but I'm sure you'd all come up with a way to pin it on me…you're just sick like that."

A knock at the door sounded and they turned to see another member of the station standing there, "Ms. Woodington may leave now, sir," the man spoke before he walked away.

Detective Reynolds glanced back at Rachael as she stood to her feet, dusting off imaginary particles from her outfit, "We'll be keeping in touch," he said and she rolled her eyes and then exited the room, ignoring the stares from the other employees. Life just loved screwing her over, if only she had known the half of it back then.

-D.S-

I hope you all liked this short little introduction to my character, Rachael Woodington and a little bit about what's currently going on in her life. I believe the next chapter will be longer because there will be more characters and whatnot. As I said in my note in Hearts to Heart for Doctor Who, this story will be updated every three days from this point on. So, since I updated today, which is a Sunday, I'll be posting on Christmas for this story and Christmas Eve for Hearts to Heart.


	2. Hellhole: Turn Around Part 2

The Drifted Series  
Supernatural: Survivor  
Episode: Hellhole  
Chapter 2: Turn Around [Part 2]

* * *

Dean and Sam sat quietly waiting inside of woman's house, though more specifically she was a psychic woman. _I still can't believe I came back to this place, _Dean thought warily. Sam noticed, but didn't comment on, how he kept looking around when they were driving about, as if expecting to see someone. He could have automatically assumed his brother was hoping to spot their father out something, even if the odds were against them, but judging by the look in his eyes, it couldn't be so.

His head snapped back up as a plump, dark woman with a small afro came out of the next room over, escorting a young gentleman to the door, speaking as she did, "All right, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you," she smiled as the man thanked her before he took his leave. She closed the door behind him and turned, shaking her head sadly, "Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."

Dean knitted his brow together, "Why didn't you tell him?" he inquired.

"People don't come here for the truth," she bluntly stated, "They come for good news," she shot the boys a look as they continued to stare at her, "Well? Sam and Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day," she strided out of the room whilst they exchanged puzzled looks behind her and then slowly followed her into the room, "Well, lemme look at ya," she laughed, eyeing them each, "Oh, you boys grew up handsome," she pointed her index finger at Dean, "And you were the good-lookin' kid, too," Dean glared at her while Sam smirked at his brother's expense, "Sam," she took hold of his hand, stunning him with her following words, "Oh, honey…I'm sorry about your girlfriend. And your father…he's missin'?"

Sam peered at her, a little more than suspicious, "How'd you know all that?"

"Well, you were just thinkin' it just now," Missouri said, earning another surprised look from the brothers. _Well, they did come to a psychic, what were they expecting? _She wondered inside her mind.

"Well, where is he?" Dean questioned, "Is he okay?"

She glanced at him, "I don't know," a small, sorrowful, smile made its way onto her face, "But Rachael...I wouldn't be so sure."

Sam furrowed his brow in confusion, "Rachael?" he turned to Dean, whose expression had gone blank, "Who is Rachael?"

"Doesn't matter," Dean snapped, earning a raised eyebrow from Sam, "We're not here for her," he took a sharp intake of breath as he addressed Missouri, who was watching him with a curious eye, "Well, you're supposed to be psychic, right? How come you can't tell us about our dad?"

He frowned as she chuckled, "Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?" she rolled her eyes, "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please," Sam smirked at Dean as they sat down, widening it when Missouri snapped at him again, "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm 'a whack you with a spoon!"

"I didn't do anything," his frown deepened, feeling a little more than irate with the woman. _One more reason why I didn't want to come back to this place, _he thought.

"But you were thinkin' about it," she retorted pointing another finger at him, "You may not have wanted to come back, but listen to me when I say you needed to for more than just finding your dad."

He just stared at her, his face gone blank once more. Sam shifted in his seat, deciding to speak to break the tense atmosphere, "Okay," he coughed, "So, our dad…when did you first meet him?"

"He came for a reading," she answered, "A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say…I drew back the curtains for him."

"What about the fire?" Dean pressed, a hidden emotion in his eyes, "Do you know about what killed our mom?"

"A little," she admitted, "Your daddy too me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And could you?" Sam probed.

"I…." she shook her head, recalling the moment, the feel from just standing inside the house that she hadn't stepped foot in so long.

"What is it?"

"I don't know," she replied softly, "Oh, but it was evil," her eyes landed on Dean, "And that two-story scarlet red house across the way," she shook her head again, leaving it at that for the moment, "So…you think somethin' is back in that house?"

"Definitely," Sam nodded.

"I don't understand…" she furrowed her brow.

"What?"

She shifted her eyes between the two, "I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet" she kept her gaze on Dean, "No _sudden_ deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin' up now?"

"I don't know," Sam sighed, finding the whole situation to be a maze, something he wanted to believe they'd make it out of, "But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once…it just feels like something's starting."

"That's a comforting thought," Dean said with a sarcastic note and internally scowled seeing Missouri glancing over him, "What is it? Do you have something to say to me?"

She just smiled at him, "Before we head off to that place, there's another we have to go to," her eyes twinkled with a hidden motive, "I'm sure she'll be happy to see you, and no, she does not hate you."

His eyes widened considerably, "What the hell are you going on about?" his expression switched back to annoyed, "We're not going _anywhere_ but back to the house," he stood to his feet, about to leave when she called out behind him.

"She's alone, you know," she told him softly, "They're all gone. Every. Last. One. She has no one left but you, shame you don't want to go see her," she slowly got up on her feet, walking to stand in front of him, the words escaping her mouth as she looked him in the eye, "Those deaths were not normal and I can't see into the future, but I can tell something's coming after her," the corners of her mouth lifted as she watched his stubborn resolve slowly break down into concern, "She's in danger and she needs you to help her. She cannot stay in Lawrence, she cannot," she shivered, "I can feel it, the cold presence looming over the whole area…searching…searching…eventually it's going to find."

"Who is this girl?" Sam asked from where he was still seated, "Why is all this happening to her?" he took a look at his brother, "Dean?"

_Rachael, Rae…what have you gotten yourself into? _Dean speculated to himself before his eyes snapped forwards, "Fine," he finally said, "We'll go to her place. Just don't blame me if she doesn't want to leave," he walked out, leaving Missouri and Sam to head out behind him.

-D.S-

Rachael sat inside her apartment, her eyes fixed vacantly on the wall before her. Around her, music played, but the words were lost on her as her mind filled itself with depressing thoughts. _I'm alone now, _she sighed. She glanced over at the picture on the small wooden end-table, her and Dean back when he was around and when she wasn't living in a hellhole of a life, _even he's left me, just like all the others._

She chuckled, remembering a time when she would have been the one giving advice to people in similar situation to her, only less severe. Now look at her, not even able to stand without falling from the lack of energy she'd been feeling lately, doing nothing but sitting in the same chair for days on end, darkness clouding her mind.

She turned her head as a knock at the door sounded, the echo reaching her ears as she just gazed at the door. After the second or third knock she pushed herself out of her chair and dragged herself to the door. She took a quick ogle out the peephole, seeing three figures standing there.

She made an 'Hn' noise before she unlocked the four locks she had installed on her door just after her father died. They weren't really for her sake, but more so for her brother, when she had figured out he was sneaking off to this bar late at night while she was asleep. It was then she had learned the full extent of her brother's depression.

The door creaked as she opened it, eyeballing the trio with a blank face, "Maybe I help you?" she asked, knitting her brow at the muscle-y guy, "Do I know you?"

Dean blinked, "Rae."

That was all he needed to say and they watched as her eyes widened, "Dean?" she whispered and then a sad look replaced her blank state, "Y-you can't be here. Go away," she moved to close the door, but Sam and Dean pushed to keep it open, "Leave me alone!" she took a deep breath, feeling a ton of emotions hit her at once, some new and some old.

"Rae, listen to me, we think you may be in danger," Dean tried to reason with her, "I know they're gone…" he and Sam nearly stumbled as she stopped pushing to close the door, fixing them with a stunned look, "Can we talk? Please."

Sam's eyes shifted between his brother and Rachael, seeing the rarely seen side of him, the one he even hid from himself just pop up without too much of a struggle. _Who is this girl? _He questioned to himself.

-D.S-

And there we have it folk, the second part of Turn Around, and there's one more left. If you couldn't tell, this little episode takes place inside of "Home", the 9th episode of the 1st Season of Supernatural. So, it's basically episode-ception…sorry, I just had to say it. This is going to be all about Rachael and whatnot and then we'll get into the actual Supernatural episode, with the house and the ghost and all that jazz.

I will also be responding to reviews on this story, so for right now we've got one, here were go…

Mionerocks: Thank you. I can't wait to write more about her ;)


	3. Hellhole: Turn Around Part 3

The Drifted Series  
Supernatural: Survivor  
Episode: Hellhole  
Chapter 3: Turn Around [Part 3]

* * *

Rachael stared, blankly at that, across the table where Sam, Dean and Missouri were sitting. Sam kept shifting around in his seat while Dean seemed to be examining the woman before him. _Well I suppose three deaths so closely together, as well as those deaths being the people who you woke up to and cared for could shake a person, _he pondered. Whatever the case may be, her solemn and haunting gaze was starting to disturb him in more than one way.

"Rachael," he cut into the silence, "Why didn't you call when these deaths first started?"

Rachael chuckled and closed her eyes for a second before they snapped back open, "I believe your exact words were 'I'm never coming back to this town'," she quoted nonchalantly, "Is it my fault I took that to heart, hm?"

Sam glanced between the two, watching as Deans expression slowly slipped into his normal mask, the one where he wanted no one to know what he was feeling, "That's a load of bull," he retorted, "You know you could've called at any moment, I know you know."

"I guess if you know that then you should also know the other reason," she said, "Unless you don't know, then I think it would be wise of you all to leave," she glanced up at Missouri, "Why did you bring them here? I believe I specifically asked everyone who's bothered to come here, hoping to cheer me up, that I wanted to be left alone."

"What makes you think she brought us here?" Sam questioned curiously.

"The only people who know where I live right now are the police, her, and one of the only people I have left in this town, who moved three weeks ago. I highly doubt the police would tell you where I was without coming here themselves," she shook her head, "They've been looking for an excuse to come here for months, but of course I have my ways of keeping them out."

"So, they think you killed your parents and brother," he raised an eyebrow, peering at his brother only to see his eyes somewhere off the wall, "Do they have any proof?"

"No, Sam," she mock-smiled, "The only evidence they have against me is that I'm the last one standing, and they can't charge me with that sole basis," she rolled her eyes, "When my brother was alive they thought the both of us did it, still couldn't find any evidence to save their lives, so they let us go. Now he's dead and they think I killed him out of some revenge scheme or whatever," she blinked, looking between the three people in her house, "Why are you here?"

"We told you," Dean spoke up, having been quiet in his thoughts, "We think you're in danger."

Rachael tilted her head, "I heard that part, but what I didn't hear was the explanation. What makes you think I'm in any danger?"

Missouri, who'd been silently listening and watching the girl, sighed, "Child, I see something in that house of yours," she said, "Something dark and evil, cold," she walked around the couch to stand closer to her, "There's something coming..." she shook her head, "And it's after you. It's already taken hold of this place," she looked around and then eyed her curiously, "Have you been having any _specific_ thoughts as of late," her eyes then landed on another end table.

"What's in there?" Dean interrogated, standing to his feet. Rachael looked at where he was and shrugged.

"I don't keep a lot of things," she simply said, "I don't see the point of it."

He made a noise and walked over to the table, pulling open the drawer and pulled out a pistol. He bit his lip as he stared at Rachael, "Why do you have a gun? Do you even know how to use a gun?" he frowned, a thought that he'd never admit frightened him more than anything else came to mind, "Were you….were you going to use this on yourself?"

Rachael's eyes widened just a bit before she started to laugh, confusing him and Sam, "Oh, do you really think I want to kill myself?" she sat back straight, her face blank once more, "How idiotic do you think I am?" her lips pursed in thought, pondering her next words, "I know what's going on," her finger shifted between Dean and Sam, "I know what you are."

"What?" Sam blinked. _She couldn't possibly know we're hunters, _there was no possible way.

"I was visited by a friend of yours the night after my father died," she leaned forward, in a story-telling manner, "He was kind of tall, sort of pale skin, dark clothes…and did I forget to mention he had these bright yellow eyes?"

"WHAT?!" Dean slammed the gun down, fire in his eyes as he stomped over to her so they were face to face, "You were visited by a demon and you didn't even think to I don't know, CALL someone?!"

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, a little surprised at the outburst.

Rachael just smiled, pushing his face out of her personal space, "Listen, he's not the first demon or ghost to ever make their presence known to my family."

"W-w-wait," Sam held up his finger, stopping the conversation, "What do you mean by that? There have been other ghost and demons running around here?" he turned to Dean, "How did we miss that?"

"Because they never did anything to us," she explained, "When I saw the yellow-eyed demon he was just standing at the window in my bedroom. We made eye-contact and then '_whoosh_' he was gone, never saw him again after that."

"But still there were _demons_ here," Dean argued, "Those are some nasty sons of a bitch and I quite frankly don't like you being here while they are here."

"Aw," she sighed mock-happily, "you're showing your concern for me. It's been a while since I last saw that side of you, Winchester."

Dean frowned at the name. She only called him by his last name when she was basically pissed off at him about something. _At least she doesn't hate me, if she did she would've never let us come in here, let alone tell us all she did about what was going on. _

"Ok, so, we've got to the bottom of why you are here," she peered between the trio again, "Now I ask what you want?"

"You need to come with us," Dean said, "Something apparently isn't right here and for some reason it's surrounding you, so we're taking you with us."

Rachael slowly stood to her feet, "What makes you think I want to go?" she questioned, "What makes you think you can barge in here and demand something like that of me?" she pushed her finger into his chest, "You left me here alone, without a friend," he averted his eyes but she moved so he was looking at her, "Why? Because every single boy or girl that tried to be my friend, you shunned them away, made some cry," she crossed her arms, "Why should I go with you, hm?"

Dean just stared at her, his lips pulled into a tight light, "Sam, Missouri, leave," he said.

"Wait…" Sam stood up.

"Come on, Sam," Missouri pulled him away, "Let's just leave them alone," she winked at Dean as they two of them walked out of the apartment, leaving him and Rachael alone.

Dean sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Rae, I'm sorry," he shook his head, "Really I am, but there was nothing I could've done about it. I had to take care of Sammy and there was Dad."

"I know Sam left you all to go off to college," Rachael interrupted, shocking him, "You could've left too, if you want to, but apparently there was nothing here to get you to leave," she blinked, "I remember what your dad was like after your mother died, more drawn, more secretive, more controlling," she took a breath, "Because my dad was the same way towards me and my brother after mom died, so we both left, we were of age after all, so what could he do?"

"Are you telling me that I should have left my father's side for you?" Dean inquired.

"No," she corrected, "You could have visited though. I got nothing after you left. No letter, postcard, phone call, zip. Everyone had grown up and left, except most of the adults who were still living, so still I had no other friends. Even my Jack had friends, who moved, but they still kept in touch."

"What do you want me do?" he asked, "What do you want me to say?"

"That you," she pointed at him, "Will never do that to me again."

Dean kept his eyes on her for a moment, "I promise, Dean Winchester, best friend of Rachael Woodington that I will never leave her alone without a friend again," he pledged, "Now, will you come with us? I honestly don't feel right about this place."

"Alright," she smiled, something she hadn't done genuinely in a while, "So, what are you guys in town for?"

-D.S-

Now we see a different side of Dean, one that doesn't like to show itself around others apparently, that'll be fixed later on in the series, trust me. Nevertheless, this is the start of Rachael's journey with the Winchesters and now we're slowly climbing up the ladder…when will she fall?

Review time!

Mionerocks: There are still things to know, but we'll get there. I'm happy to see you're enjoying Rachael already.


	4. Home: Shiver

The Drifted Series  
Supernatural: Survivor  
Episode: Home  
Chapter 4: Shiver

* * *

Ritchie, a little boy, was alone inside the kitchen of the old Winchester house, his current residence, when one of the screws on his playpen mysteriously came out of place. The side fence fell to the floor and at the same time the safety latch on the door of the fridge came undone, and opened. Curious, Ritchie walked over to it, seeing his sippy cup inside, full of juice.

"Juicy," he reached for it, climbing onto one of the shelves, being small enough to do so. Suddenly the door to the refrigerator closed and the safety latch locked back into place.

A couple of minutes later, a blonde woman, Jenny, entered the kitchen, "Oh, baby, either we have rats or Mommy's going crazy," she stopped in her tracks, seeing the empty playpen, "Ritchie? Ritchie?!" her heart racing she rushed into the other rooms to try and find him, "Baby, where are you?!" she ran back into the kitchen, breathing heavily when she saw a trail of milk leaking out from inside the fridge. She strided over and opened the door, seeing Ritchie sitting there innocently.

"Mommy," he said.

"Oh my God!" she took him out and held him her arms. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Frowning, she moved to answer it to see Sam, Dean, Rachael, and Missouri standing there, "Sam, Dean. What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Jenny," Sam smiled, "These are our friends, Missouri and Rachael."

"If it's not too much trouble," Dean added, "We were hoping to show her the old house. You know, for old time's sake."

"You know, this isn't a good time," Jenny replied, "I'm kind of busy."

"Listen, Jenny, it's important," he said a bit roughly, earning a smack across the head from Missouri, "Ow!"

Rachael snickered from her spot and turned her head as he glared at her.

"Give the poor girl a break," Missouri reprimanded him, "can't you see she's upset?" she turned to Jenny, "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out," Rachael glanced at Sam, seeing she wasn't the only one amused by the scene. She looked back at Dean to see him still staring at her and she raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips when he turned away. _What's up with him? He must want to say something to me, but can't. _

"About what?" Jenny inquired. She didn't really have time for chatting, not with something trying to destroy her family. She could feel a migraine coming on.

"About this house."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about," Missouri shot her a look, "You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?"

Rachael tilted her head slightly, biting down her lip when she saw something shoot across the room behind Jenny. She blinked rapidly, seeing nothing more. _I must be tired. _

Jenny knitted her brow together, "Who are you?"

"We're people who can't help, who can stop this thing," Missouri replied, "But you're gonna have to trust us, just a little."

-D.S-

The quartet found themselves in Sari's, Jenny's daughter, bedroom, "If there's a dark energy around here," Missouri stated, "This room should be the center of it."

"Why?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"This used to be your nursery, Sam," she said, "This is where it all happened," he glanced up at the ceiling. While Missouri looked around the rest of the room, Dean pulled out an EMF meter, "That an EMF?"

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Amateur," he glared at her and nudged Sam, showing him the EMF was beeping frantically, "I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom."

"Wait, are you sure?" Sam asked and she nodded, "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I wash here. It's somethin' different."

"What is it?" Dean pressed.

"No," Rachael spoke in a distant tone as she leaned against the doorway, "Them."

He furrowed his brow at her and glanced at Missouri, who nodded, but said no more, "How did…how did you know that?" he asked.

She seemed snap out of whatever daze she was, "What?"

His frown deepened, "You said there was more than one spirit up in here," he told her, "_How_ did you know that?"

"I don't…" she trailed and they watched as she shivered, rather violently at that, confusing him and Sam, "I'm cold," she looked up at them, "I'll be outside."

"So, what are they doing here?" Sam questioned whilst Dean stared after Rachael, the mask completely on.

"They're here because of what happened to your family," Missouri explained, eyeing the doorway as well with soft worry, "You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house and Rachael's house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected."

"I don't understand," he blinked.

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

"You said it walked this house and Rachael's house, wouldn't that create another poltergeist? She said there was more than one spirit."

"Oh, the feeling I got from her home," she shook her head, "It cannot compare to this house, and that's bad news for her," she glanced at Dean, who seemed lost in thought, "Like I said, she doesn't need to be here. Something's coming after her and if her house is the origin…"

"We're right across the street," Sam finished. He didn't know much about Rachael, it just seemed like everyone was avoiding talking much about her, especially Dean.

"Well, one thing's for damn sure…" Dean turned back around, bringing himself back into the conversation, his eyes hard, "_Nobody's_ dyin' in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?"

-D.S-

Got more info on Rachael, looks like she might be able to see spirits, oooh! Or maybe there's another reason for her behavior, who knows? Sam's still confused about her, as it appears, but we'll be getting to that soon in a funny but cute scene.

Three reviews!

Mionerocks: Yep, they'll all be confused more than once about Rachael during this story, I can tell you that much. I can't wait to write out the parts that tell you about Dean and Rachael's past ;)

Loveless150050: (Chapter 1) Thank you and I still can't get to that story, are you sure have URL right? Because I keep getting a DNS error when I put it in. (Chapter 3) Thank you, again!


	5. Home: On the Outside

Hello! I'm back and I hope you all are ready for this new, longer, chapter down below. For those of you who didn't know, I was on hiatus with my writing due to exams, that I'm not sure I may or may not have failed (good thing I have two years to make up for them if I did). So, that's what I was doing, and I'm done and back to writing! Hooray!

* * *

The Drifted Series  
Supernatural: Survivor  
Episode: Home  
Chapter 5: On the Outside

* * *

Rachael stood on the top stair of the porch-staring across the street-where she spent most of her childhood. She felt herself shiver again and sighed internally. It was something she had developed after her mother had gone. She could not explain in detail, knowing she'd fail to complete it. All she could decipher was that it wasn't a good feeling and normally something unordinary was about to happen, but she never knew what until it was too late.

She painfully remembered the day when her mother died. Her father had taken her and Jack out to get some special ingredients-it was her mother's birthday-and he wanted to do something spectacular, which they agreed on a family dinner and then he could take her out somewhere romantic.

When they came back to the house, Rachael could only stare up at the red-wooden structure, feeling a chill run down her spine. It was almost like something horrible had happened, but yet she knew what of. That is, until she heard her brother's ear-shattering scream from the top of the stairs…

Blinking rapidly, Rachael wiped her face, feeling the moisture falling down her cheeks. Death-especially ones so close to home-was an easy way to make her cry, a weakness she would let none exploit.

She didn't turn around when the door behind her opened. She felt a rough -but soft- hand on her shoulder and she sighed, glancing around at Dean, Sam, and Missouri before she shook her head, "Why?" she questioned.

Dean stared at her, recognizing the question, the same question he asked her after his and Sam's mother had died. Why? _If only I knew the answer, Rae…_

"Hey," he looked at Sam as he walked to stand so he was facing Rachael, "we don't know why this has happened to you," he knitted his brow, thoughtful, "but we're going to make sure you're safe, Rachael. I may not know you that well, though it seems you may know me, and whatever it is that's going on here, we'll stop it."

Rachael eyed him for a second-letting out a small chuckle-confusing him until she spoke, "Sam, you remind me of someone I used to know," she simply said before walking down the stairs. "Well, are we leaving?"

"Yes," Missouri nodded and peered at Sam and Dean, "Boys, give us ladies a moment," she sighed. "No, you won't need to intervene, Dean."

Dean whipped around to face her, his eyes narrowed, "I-" he shook his head-grumbling under his breath about psychic's-before he and Sam headed towards the car.

Rachael stared after them and then turned to Missouri, crossing her arms, "What is it?" she inquired suspiciously.

Missouri smiled at her, albeit a bit sadly, "You felt it back there, didn't you?" she wondered, noting when Rachael tensed and narrowed her eyes, steeling over, "The same feeling you got before the incidents."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she retorted hotly. _Just who does this woman think she is that she can say those sorts of things to me? God, why won't people just mind their own business?_ "We should leave, Sam and Dean are waiting."

With that she turned and walked towards the car, pretending the conversation never occurred, for the sake of her sanity and not needing anymore questions asked.

-D.S-

Rachael-her arms crossed-peered around the room. They were in Missouri's house, apparently there was something important to discuss. She could feel Dean's eyes on her while they waited for Missouri to emerge from where she went. He was worried, but he wouldn't get much from her, she knew that much. However, he would be bringing it up at some point, she knew, he always did.

She looked up as Missouri sat down across from them, placing a couple more roots and herbs beside the ones littering the table, "So, what's all this stuff, anyway?" Dean wondered, his eyes roaming over the items.

"Angelic Root," Missouri told him, "Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends."

"Yeah?" he raised an eyebrow. "What are we supposed to do with it?"

Rachael eyed the materials as a thought came to mind. _Well, Jenny's not going to like this plan. Hm, at least she'll have the chance of living._

"We're gonna put them inside the walls in the north," Missouri explained, "south, east, and west corners on each floor of the house."

"We'll be punchin' holes in the dry wall," Dean nodded. "Jenny's gonna love that."

"She'll live," she responded, albeit slyly, taking a gander at Rachael, who frowned at her.

"Yes?" Rachael raised an eyebrow. "Is there something on your mind?"

Sam glanced between her and Missouri, clear on the tension between the women. _I wonder what that conversation was about? _"And this'll destroy the spirits?" he questioned.

Missouri averted her eyes to him, "It should," she confirmed. "It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor. Rachael, Dean, you'll split the corners on your level. But we must work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad."

-D.S-

Missouri led Jenny and her kids outside the house, leaving Rachael, Dean, and Sam to start on the floors inside, "Look," Jenny said, "I'm not sure if I'm comfortable leaving you guys here alone."

"Just take your kids to movies or somethin'," Missouri replied, "and it'll be over by the time you get back," Jenny bit her lip, slightly unsure, before she turned and left with her kids. Missouri, after making sure she was gone, entered the house once more, closing the door behind her.

Sam walked around on the upper floor, going into one of the rooms with a hammer at hand. Kneeling down by the wall, he started using the end of the hammer to hit against the walls. Unbeknownst to him, a plug on the other side of the room removed itself out of the outlet, the lamp connecting to it moving on its own also. The plug snaked its way towards Sam-

In the kitchen, Dean was punching the wall with a small ax, behind him a drawer slowly opening. Rachael, in living room -stood still- watching out of her peripheral vision as a couple of vases began to shake from behind her.

Missouri brought a bag full of herbs to the basement wall when a sound from behind reached her ears. She screamed as a table pinned her against the wall.

Dean, his ears picking up on a sound, quickly ducked just as a knife hurled itself into a cabinet. He used a table as a shield as move knives were thrown.

Rachael, her eyes steeled over, grinned as she took to the ground, performing a variety of flexible movements as the vases sailed passed her, smashing into the wall behind. She made her way towards the couch, managing to use the cushions to avoid the ceramic projectiles flying at her. She dropped the cushions to the ground, turning to see Dean staring at her. She blinked rapidly, "What?"

Sam busied himself as he chopped a hole in the wall, oblivious to his surroundings till the lamp crashed to the ground. He looked to see what the noise was and the chord wrapped itself around his neck. Falling to the ground, he struggled to get the cord from off his neck. Soon he became faint and stilled weak on the floor.

"Sam!"

Dean and Rachael, having run upstairs after their encounters, rushed over to his aid. Dean tried to get the cord off, but found it wouldn't budge. He turned and kicked a hole in the wall, placing the bag of herbs inside, causing a blinding white light dispersed from the room. He looked back to see the chord already unwrapped from Sam with Rachael kneeling next to him, again with steely eyes. She looked up at Dean before she walked off back down the stairs.

-D.S-

Dean, Sam, Rachael, and Missouri stood inside the kitchen, looking around at the utensils and table fragments littering the ground. Dean peered at Rachael, looking away when she looked up to narrow her eyes at him. She didn't know, or at least he didn't think she knew, but he saw her moves in the living room. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen, the way she avoided getting hit, and the way she looked afterwards…like she had expected it.

But that was preposterous, right? She couldn't have known it was going to happen, that they'd all be attacked. _Well, Missouri did say the spirit would get worse after they caught on, guess she was more aware than the rest of us. _

That still didn't explain her flexible movements. It SHOULDN'T have bothered him as much as it did, but it did and that's what concerned him.

"Hello?" he snapped out of his thoughts, glancing over as Jenny emerged into the kitchen, her face falling at the state of the room. "We're home…" she looked between the quartet. "What happened?"

"Hi, sorry," Sam apologized. "Um, we'll pay for all of this."

Dean shot him a confused look. _And how exactly are we supposed to do that?_

"Don't you worry," Missouri spoke up. "Dean's gonna clean up this mess," Dean continued to stand there, unmoving, earning a glare from her. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop," he shot her a look and began walking away from her. "And don't cuss at me!"

Rachael chuckled and Sam shook his head amusedly as Dean muttered a couple of inappropriate words under his breath.

-D.S-

Night had fallen and Jenny lied in her bed, reading a magazine. She yawned and placed the item on her bedside, turning off the lamp before she slid comfortably underneath the covers, closing her eyes and letting slumber overtake her. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, startled-and that was just an understatement-. Her bed began to shake violently and she screamed, jumping out of it.

Outside, Dean, Sam, and Rachael sat inside the Impala, "All right," Dean started, "so, tell me again, what are we still doin' here?"

"I don't know," Sam frowned, keeping his eyes on the house. "I just…I have a bad feeling."

"Why?" he inquired. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over."

Rachael peered at him from the corner of her eye, "That doesn't mean it is."

He shifted to look at her, actually look at her, and then shook his head, leaning against the car seat again. Something was definitely wrong with her, that was obvious, but what was it? He remembered a time where she would've told him what was on her mind, despite him not being too into that sort of thing. _She could be growing up. _That's what the logical side said to him. _Or she could be hiding something dangerous, something she doesn't want you to know, knowing you'd overreact. _That seemed more plausible. However, she did tell him, knowing what they had gone through, that the yellow-eyed demon had visited her. What was worse than that?

Sam looked away from Dean -knitting his brow at the silence- and back to Jenny's bedroom, seeing her screaming, just like his dream had predicted, "Dean, Rachael. Look!"

They rushed out of the car and ran towards the house, "You two grab the kids," Dean commanded, "I'll get Jenny."

Upstairs, inside Sari's bedroom, a figure made of fire stood by her closet. In the hall, Dean dashed to Jenny's bedroom door, "Jenny!" he shouted.

"I can't open the door!" she called back, fear lacing her voice.

"Stand back!" he ordered and after a moment, giving her time to move, he kicked down the door and hurriedly pulled her downstairs.

"No, my kids!" she struggled to get away.

"Sam and Rachael's got your kids," he tried to assure her, "come on."

While Rachael carried Ritchie in her arms, Sam and she went into Sari's room, where she was screaming from her bed. He went to her and picked her up in his other arm, "Don't look," he told them. "Don't look!" he and Rachael swiftly made their way down the stairs and put the kids on the floor, "All right, Sari, take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don't look back."

Without warning, Sam was knocked to the floor. Rachael watched with wide eyes as he slid backwards into another room, crashing into a table. Sari screamed and ran outside with Ritchie, bumping into Dean and Jenny. Dean knelt down to Sari's eye level, "Sari," he said, "where are Sam and Rachael?"

Sari sniffled as a trail of tears fell from her eyes, "They're inside," she told him. "Something's got Sam."

Dean's head snapped to the front door, watching as it slammed shut on his own as Rachael's scream pierced his ears.

-D.S-

Dean opened the trunk of the Impala, grabbing a rifle and an ax. He made his way to the front door and began chopping away at it. Inside the kitchen, Sam was flung into a set of cabinets. He stood up and was pinned against the wall by the invisible force, unable to move even the slightest bit. The fire-y figure made his way towards him, taking a look at Rachael, who lied unconscious on the floor. Dean continued to chop down parts of the door, eventually making a hole that he was able to step through. He walked through the house, looking around.

"Sam? Rachael?" he called, not seeing them. "Sam! Rachael!" moving forwards, he found them, his eyes fixated on Rachael on the ground and raised his gun at the fire-y figure.

"No, don't!" Sam told him, earning a strange plus incredulous look from his brother. "Don't!"

"What, why?!" Dean frowned, his eyes moving towards Rachael, not able to see a sign of life from where he was standing. No movement of the chest, no nothing. She wasn't…

"Because I know who it is. I can see her now."

They both looked on as the fire on the figure vanished, now in its place, standing was Mary Winchester, exactly as she was on the night of her demise. Dean's expression softened, stunned as he lowered his gun, "Mom?" he whispered.

Mary smiled and stepped closer to him, "Dean," she said as tears formed in his eyes, "watch after her, she needs you more than ever. I'm sorry," she walked away from him and over to Sam, "Sam," Sam smiled weakly, tears falling freely, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he and Dean questioned.

She looked between her sons sadly, but revealed nothing. She stepped away from them and glanced up at the ceiling, "You get out of my house," she said. "And let go of my son," once more, she burst into flames. When she was entirely engulfed, the fire stretched to the ceiling and disappeared, along with her. The force holding Sam to the wall was released. He moved over to Dean, and the two of them looked at each other, stunned, before Dean slowly made his way to Rachael, picking her up into his arms.

"Is it over now?" he asked.

Sam nodded, "Now it's over."

-D.S-

The next morning, Dean stood by the car with Jenny, looking through an old set of photos, "Thanks for these," he said.

Jenny smiled, "Don't thank me," she said, "they're yours," he put them into the trunk of the car. Sitting on the front steps of the house, Sam was joined by Missouri.

"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore," she remarked, "this time for sure."

"Not even my mom?" Sam wondered, a bit hopefully.

She shook her head sadly, "No."

Of course.

"What happened?" he questioned.

"Your mom's spirit and the poltergeist's energy," Missouri explained, "they cancelled each other out. Your mom destroyed herself goin' after the thing."

"Why would she do something like that?" Sam's frown deepened.

"Well, to protect her boys, of course," she replied. He nodded, his eyes glistening over again. She went to put her hand on his shoulder, but stopped herself. "Sam, I'm sorry."

"For what?" he blinked. His mom had said the same thing. What were they sorry for?

"You sensed it was here, didn't you?" she said, "You and Rachael both," his eyes widened. That made a bit of sense, considering what he witnessed. "Even when I couldn't."

"What's happening to me?" he averted his eyes ahead of him. "To us, if I may ask?"

"I know I should have all the answers, but I don't know."

"Sam, you ready?"

Sam looked up to see Dean staring down at him, "Is Rachael…?"

Dean cast his eyes away, "She's fine," he answered. "She's just unconscious, though I still don't know what happened back there," he stared at him for a moment. Sam's gaze didn't falter, instead he stood to his feet.

"Yeah, we should get going," he agreed, ignoring the silent question. It wasn't his place to say what had happened. He knew Dean wouldn't understand, but he just…he just had the strangest feeling that it was best kept secret, that Rachael should be the one to reveal what had occurred before she fainted. He could tell all he wanted, but only she would be able to explain.

"Well," Missouri spoke up, knocking him from his thoughts, "don't you boys be strangers."

Dean bit the inside of his jaw, "We won't," he simply said before heading back to the Impala.

"Don't worry about him, Sam," she reassured the boy, "he's just being protective," she smiled, "See you around."

"Yeah," Sam nodded and followed after his brother, getting into the car before they drove off.

-D.S-

Missouri entered into her house, setting her purse on the table, "That boy…" she shook her head, "…he has such powerful abilities. But why couldn't he sense his own father, I have no idea," she turned to face the figure on the couch, John Winchester.

"Mary's spirit," John blinked, "-do you really think she saved the boys?"

"I do," she nodded and he sighed, twisting the wedding ring on his finger. "John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won't you go talk to your children?"

"I want to," he said, tearfully. "You have no idea how much I wanna see 'em. But I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth."

She shared a look with him and stared at the ceiling, "Well, whatever the truth is, Rachael is involved."

"Then it would be best if she was protected. Matthew and Katherine would've wanted it."

Missouri sighed, "We've only delayed it, I'm sure," she shook her head slowly. "It's still going after her."

"Then Sam and Dean will be there to see that she remain safe," John retorted. "I trust my boys," he chuckled, albeit sorrowfully, "and knowing Dean, he'd be the one to fall for her. He's too much like me. Too much…"

-D.S-

See? I told you it'd be longer than the others ;)

Rachael's mystery is only beginning, not even unravelling quite yet. Her moments can be perceived in more than one way, but only one way is the correct way. She's keeping Dean in the dark and Sam seems to have caught something he wasn't supposed to, or was he? So many questions….so many possibilities…

Of course John would know about Rachael and what was going on. Come on, he's John Winchester, but no seriously, what does he know about what's going on with her? Hm, maybe we'll find out.

Leaving notes with questions is awesome, don't you agree?

Reviews! We've got two this time!

Mionerocks: Thank you, and yes, yes her mystery does get bigger…and it'll continue to as well, hehe…Happy Belated New Year (lol).

Myharquinromance321: Thank you! I hope you liked this chapter. I write that way because I know people don't like spoilers, or else things get boring quickly, but as for myself, I don't mind getting spoilers, either which way I'm going to watch or read it. I'm happy you liked The Seventh Word, how is Hearts to Heart for you so far?


	6. Asylum: Sleuthing

The Drifted Series  
Supernatural: Survivor  
Episode: Asylum  
Chapter 6: Sleuthing

* * *

Rachael sat at the table in the motel room Sam and Dean rented out, completely out of tune with the world around her. After they had arrived, she immediately requested a separate room, which of course, Dean had to argue against claiming it was too "dangerous" and that they should all stick together.

She had merely rolled her eyes at his dramatics. His little protective act was sweet before, but now it was just annoying her. She was 24 and she had dealt with demonic spirits before, it was no big deal, though she was concerned about one little detail of that…not that she'd ever reveal it to anyone, it wasn't exactly the most normal thing to happen regarding demons.

"Rachael!"

Her eyes slithered over to Dean, who was standing in front of her, his eyebrow raised in a question, "What is it now?" she droned. She looked down to see a burger stretched out towards her. "I'm not hungry."

His eyes narrowed as he glanced over her, "When's the last time you ate?"

"Hm," she pretended to think, ignoring his intrusive gaze, "the last time I ate was two days ago when you kidnapped me."

"Hey, it's not our fault _you_ fell asleep."

"But it _is_ your fault that you didn't think to get any of my stuff."

"Actually, we did go back, I suggested it," Sam interrupted and they looked over at him. "I found a couple of things I thought you might want to keep," he reached under one of the beds, pulling out a box before he handed it to Rachael.

Rachael shifted through some of the items, humming in approval as she did and then she stopped, pulling out a photo frame. She bit her lip, staring at the people inside. Her mom and dad were behind her and Jack as they all smiled away at the camera. They had gone out to the lake for their yearly family fishing trip. It was also the year her mom had died.

She furrowed her brow, blinking rapidly to rid of the stinging sensation behind her eyes. She let a small smile cross her lips before she put down the box and photo and stood to her feet. She made her way over to Sam and pulled him into a hug, shocking him momentarily, "Thank you," she murmured.

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, "You're welcome," he finally said, patting her back a bit awkwardly, "I know if I were in your situation, I would've wanted someone to do the same for me."

Dean rolled his eyes at that, "So," he cut into the moment and Rachael pulled away from Sam, going back over to the box, "has Caleb heard from Dad?"

Sam shook his head, "Nope," he stated. "And neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. What about the journal? Any leads in there?"

"No," he recalled, "same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out…" he sighed internally. "I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda."

"You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person's."

"Sorry, I don't mean to intrude," Rachael said, earning their attention, "but if you called the Feds, that would have both its consequences and benefits. The benefits being you get to find your dad and reunite, but the consequences are that they might not find him and even if they did, who's to say he won't escape, then if he doesn't escape and you do get to see him again, he'll probably be pissed off that you put him in that situation."

Dean smirked, "Man, I forgot how quickly your mind works, Rae," he commented, "like a detective. Remember the nickname I gave you? Detective Rae?"

Rachael rolled her eyes, "And remember how I threatened to break your arm if you called me that again?" she mock-grinned. "I was being serious."

He just scoffed and she raised her eyebrow, daring him to test her word. Sam looked between the two before he shook his head, "Moving on," he interrupted. "I really don't care anymore about Dad being pissed or not, we just have to find him," the sound of a phone ringing caught their attention and Dean made his way across the room as Sam continued to talk. "After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean…he should've been there, Dean," Rachael raised a curious eyebrow. "You said so yourself. You tried to call him and…nothing."

"I know!" Dean responded, rummaging around through his duffel bag. "Where the hell is my cellphone?"

"You know, he could be dead for all we know."

Rachael bit her lip, deciding not to comment.

"Don't say that!" Dean retorted. "He's not dead! He's-he's…"

"He's what?" Sam blinked. "He's hiding? He's _busy_?"

_Well, the second one seems more plausible_, Rachael thought. _This is John Winchester, we're talking about. If I knew anything about him was that he'd do anything to keep his boys safe, even if that means not able to see them again. Hm, if that's that case, then that must mean he's in danger…or maybe he's distracting them from something, something he doesn't want them in on…_

Dean pulled out his cell, flicking it open to see a message:

42, -89

"Huh," he murmured. "I don't believe it."

"What is it?" Rachael's eyes landed on him, full of potential interest.

He looked up at her and Sam, "It's, uh….It's a text message," he told them. "It's coordinates."

-D.S-

Rachael stood over Dean as he typed on a laptop, "You think Dad was texting us?" Sam asked as he stood in the middle of the floor.

Dean shrugged, "He's given us coordinates before."

"The man can barely work a toaster, Dean," he countered, earning a chuckle from Rachael. Dean shot her a look, earning a toothy grin from her. One minute she was brooding, the next minute she was fine. _Women…_

Turning from her, he glanced at his brother, exasperated at his negativity. _Why does he have to be so damn logical?_ "Sam, it's good news!" he said. "I means he's okay, or alive at least."

"Well, was there a number on the caller ID?"

"Nah, it said 'unknown'."

"Well," Sam knitted his brow together, "where do the coordinates point?"

"That's the strangest part," Dean frowned, staring at the results, "Rockford, Illinois."

Rachael's eyes wandered down the screen, "Hm," she hummed, scratching the back of her head. _That's very interesting…and strange…it's almost like I've…but that's couldn't be? I would know for certain if that was the case. _

"Ok," Sam trailed, uncomprehending, bringing her out of her mind, "and that's interesting how?"

"I checked the local Rockford paper," Dean informed him. "Take a look at this," Sam stood on the opposite side of him, peering down as a picture of a cop popped up. "This cop, Walter Kelly, come home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum."

"Okay," he nodded slowly, still oblivious, "I'm not following. What does this have to do with us?"

"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see….here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths-till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go."

"This is a job-" Sam snorted, "-Dad wants us to work a job."

"Well," Dean frowned, "maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?"

"Maybe he's not?" he retorted, earning a slight glare from Rachael. She knew the possibility of their father being there was slim to none, but Dean was on dangerous grounds with his faith in their father, so it would be better to handle him with care. "I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing."

"Who cares!? If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!"

"This doesn't strike you as weird?" Sam inquired, already knowing the answer, "The texting? The coordinates?"

"Sam!" Dean shot him a look. "Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're _goin'_," he scowled as Sam glanced at Rachael. "Don't look at her, we're _all_ goin', _that's_ what Dad wants, no room for discussion."

Sam rolled his eyes, pulling a face before he sighed. _Just like Dad…even Rachael can see it, Dean…_

-D.S-

Dean looked around the bar, stopping when his eyes landing on a cop sitting at a table a short ways away. He walked over, "You're Daniel Gunderson," he began and the guy looked up at him. "You're a cop, right?"

"Yeah," Daniel eyed him warily.

"Huh," he nodded, taking the seat opposite of him, "I'm uh, Nigel Tufnel, The Chicago Tribune. Mind if I ask you a couple of questions, about your partner?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm just trying' to have a beer here."

"That's okay," Dean raised his hands, "I swear it won't take that long. I just want to get the story in your words."

Daniel stared at him, his face dead blank, "A week ago, my partner was sitting in that chair," he stated. "Now he's dead. You gonna ambush me _here_?"

"Sorry," he frowned. "But I need to know what happened," he turned his head as Sam strided up to him and pulled him up out of the seat, throwing him roughly to the side.

"Hey buddy, why don't you leave the poor guy alone!" Sam pointed at Daniel, gaining the attention of a few customers. "The man's an officer! Why dontcha show a little respect!"

Rachael, with her head in her hand, shot a glare at Dean before she smiled apologetically at Daniel, "I'm so sorry about my-" she sent a kick backwards into Dean's leg, causing him to grunt, "-idiotic friend," she rolled her eyes. "He doesn't seem to know what-" another kick, "-consideration is," she turned to face Dean as he glared up at him. "Come on before you embarrass yourself even further."

She made her way towards the exit and Dean paused for a moment, glancing between her and Sam before he followed after her.

Daniel turned his head to Sam, "You didn't havta do that," he said.

"Yeah, course I did," Sam smiled. "That guy's a serious jerk. Let me buy you a beer, huh?" he looked over at the barman. "Two?"

"Thanks," he nodded at him.

-D.S-

Sam walked out of the bar to see Dean and Rachael partially sitting on the Impala, appearing to be in deep conversation, "Guys?" he called.

The duo whipped their heads towards him, "Finally," Dean said. "You shoved me kind hard in there, buddy boy," his eyes narrowed at Rachael. "But at least you didn't try and break my leg."

"It's called method acting, Dean," Rachael simply said.

Sam smirked at Dean's confused expression, "Huh?"

"It's nothing," Sam shook his head and Rachael chuckled. Some things just flew right over Dean's head, one of the things that made him different from his brother. It would be interesting to see what else Rachael knew, or what else she could deduct, if going by Dean's comment earlier on her quick mind process.

"What'd you find out from Gunderson?" Dean asked, knocking Sam from his thoughts. _I'll have to remind myself to look up method acting later. _

"So," Sam started, "Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of the class, even-kneeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.

"What about his home-life?" Rachael wondered.

"He and his wife had a few fights," he shrugged, "like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids."

"So, basically he was either bottling up his insanity and burst at the wrong or right moment, or he was possibly possessed by something inside that asylum, it being the only place he'd been that could have a tainted atmosphere. Those things are like a hang-out for spirits."

She looked up to see Sam and Dean staring at her, "That's an interesting way to put it," Sam remarked, "I'm impressed."

"Is that a good thing?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he smiled, "not a lot of people around to compare minds to, you know?"

Dean's lips morphed into a straight-lipped look as he peered between his brother and Rachael, "Alright," he cut in, "did Gunderson say anything about the asylum?"

"Yes, and he said a lot," Sam answered.

-D.S-

I've wanted to get in some Sam/Rachael bonding moments, well not really bonding, but more so them starting to see they might have things in common…so I guess that's bonding. –Shrugs- Anyways, I wonder what's up with Dean? Seems to me like he might be a bit jealous, oooh! Or he could just be his normal protective self. Rachael _did_ say he scared away all the other children when they were kids, so she didn't have any other than him.

One review!

Mionerocks: Thank you, I'm sorry it took so long to get to it. I was upset and whatnot over the plagiarism incident, but I'm alright now. I didn't know you could delete the guest reviews, so when I found that out it made it better knowing that I wouldn't have to pass by the reviews every single time. Nevertheless, I hope you liked this chapter and the Sam/Rachael Bonding Moments!


	7. Asylum: Deducting Fright

The Drifted Series  
Supernatural: Survivor  
Episode: Asylum  
Chapter 7: Deducting Fright

* * *

Rachael watched as Sam and Dean climbed over the tall chain-linked fence separating the world from the asylum. Dean turned around, seeing her still standing there and smirked, "Come on, Rae," he said. "You're not afraid are you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him before she shook her head. She placed her hand on the metal fence and quickly made her way up and over with less vigor than they'd shown, earning a raised eyebrow from Sam and Dean, "Whose afraid now?" she retorted, her eyes still narrowed at Dean. "We should go inside, no?"

"What she said," Sam agreed. "Come on."

He made his way inside the building with Rachael following behind him. Dean watched her go for a minute before he jogged to catch up to them.

-D.S-

"Cool," Rachael commented, glancing around the torn corridors. "It's like a scary movie, only I'm living it."

Sam eyed her, thoughtful. _She sure is calm about all this demon-hunting business. I know it was hard for me to accept fighting demons at first, but then I thought about mom and it made it easier to battle. Her parents and brother died-she has no family left, as Dean had said-. He's also been secretive about her. I wonder why he didn't mention her earlier. Then again, it is Dean, he does act a lot like Dad…never wanting to admit to something, or rather tell it._

"Sam?"

He blinked rapidly, looking down slightly to see Rachael staring at him, a slightly concerned look on her face, "Yeah?"

"Dude, you spaced out," Dean told him, his eyes fixated on him strangely, almost accusingly. "What were you thinking so hard about?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, "it was nothing," Rachael raised an eyebrow, but said no more. "Um, so apparently the cops chased the kids here…into the south wing," he indicated towards a sign over one of the doors.

"South wing, huh?" Dean nodded slowly, and then looked up, remembrance dawning on him. "Wait a second," he flicked through the journal his father had left behind for them, stopping on a particular page. "1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."

"So whatever's going on," Sam concluded, "the south wing is the heart of it."

Rachael's eyes landed down the hall, staring silently at the still figure. She tilted her head and when she blinked, the shadow was gone. _Hm, so it is starting up again. I thought I got rid of that two months ago, guess it was on pause. But why? Why do I keep seeing these shadows? Are they really shadows? What are they? Why me?_

"…or to keep something in," she faced Sam and Dean, hearing the last of his words. She noted the broken chain on the door, making the connection. _So, the asylum's usually locked up pretty tight…or was until the chain was broken. I never understand why they don't update chains, they rust and break so easily. Still, the question remains is why it was locked up in the first place? Normally when one locks something, they lock the outside from getting in, but in this case it seems to be they're locking the inside from getting out. Interesting…_

Keeping that thought in mind, she walked behind Dean and Sam into the next area. Dean paused ahead of her and pushed her lightly ahead of him, but behind Sam. He looked at her, but said nothing. She smiled and carried on. Ah, protective Dean.

-D.S.-

Rachael bit her lip as they strided down a hallway, "Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel," Dean remarked purposefully.

"Dude, enough," Sam gritted out.

"I'm serious," he countered. "You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on."

"I told you, it's not ESP!" he nearly shouted and glanced at Rachael, who was patiently waiting for him to finish or not, it didn't matter to her. "Um, sometimes I just have strange vibes. Weird dreams."

Rachael moved forwards till she was standing in front of him, "Given the subject of the moment and your history with the supernatural," she said, "I can only assume that you have dreams, possibly not so good dreams, and…" she eyed him up and down, "…they come true, don't they?"

"What makes you say that?" Sam questioned a bit steely, giving no indication of whether she was right or wrong.

"You did, just now," she smiled. "If it wasn't true then you wouldn't be reacting so interestingly to Dean's comment, now would you? If they were good dreams, he wouldn't have mentioned dead people, unless by some chance you were able to rescue said people predicted to die in your dreams, then I suppose they could be considered as such. I'd continue, but I believe I don't need to say the rest, correct?" she sighed and placed her hand on Sam's arm. "You're not alone, and you're certainly not the only one with a peculiar ability."

He knitted his brow, "What do you mean by that?"

"I'll tell you when the time comes," she simply said, leaving it at that. Dean kept his gaze on her until he averted it. _Is it me, or is she even more secretive than before? She's definitely gotten better at deducting, that's for sure._

He never really liked being on the other side of her deductions, unless they were her kind ones, like now. She couldn't deduct off of looks, she told him that much, but based off of conversations she'd be able to tell a life's story, or a secret that was whispered and a word or two fell out. If someone pissed her off, man, he'd hate to see what she could dig up about them from a simple conversation or even a complex one.

"You get a reading on that thing or not?" Sam asked, knocking him from his thoughts. He looked down at the EMF in his hands.

"Nope," he reported. "Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home."

"Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day," he added.

"Yeah, the freaks come out at night."

Sam frowned a bit at him, "Yeah."

"Hey Sam," Dean smirked, "who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?"

Sam pushed him lightly, earning a laugh from Dean. Rachael smiled at them and turned her head, fixating her eyes down the hall, where another figure was waiting.

-D.S-

I think that wraps up that little bit of an episode. I think I'll do with what I do in my Doctor Who stories, where one chapter is always more worded than the other. Yep, I think I'll make it the third chapter from now on, just to set it. If there's ever a case where there are two chapters or one, then the rule doesn't apply, it'll be any length depending on what's going on.

So, Rachael's keeping secrets from Dean? Knowing him, he's going to confront her about it. It'll make for an interesting conversation, is all that I'll say at the moment. We know she can see figures, what are the figures? So many possibilities…so many…just so…

I love Rachael's deductions…I really do…

Haha! More of Dean's jealousy, or protectiveness, we don't know the situation quite yet. Let's not make assumptions, but this is FanFiction, so…I guess you can assume whatever you want. Wasn't that little scene up their cute? Where he pushed her in front of him, but behind Sam? Ah, protective Dean.

One Review!

Mionerocks: Thank you! I also love a jealous Dean. I certainly do have a plan for the Angels regarding, but I can't say more except they're coming a lot sooner than anyone may think.


	8. Asylum: Communication

The Drifted Series  
Supernatural: Survivor  
Episode: Asylum  
Chapter 8: Communication

* * *

Rachael peered around the room, avoiding bumping into the tables and broken equipment lying around. It was all rather creepy, but in an interesting way.

"Man," Dean whistled, looking around as well. "Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people. Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest," his eyes crossed crazily and he grinned at Sam and Rachael, who both just turned back to what they were doing, and he dropped the smile," So. Whaddaya think? Ghost possessing people?"

"Maybe," Sam pondered aloud. "Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting."

"Spirits driving them insane," he nodded, processing the idea. "Kinda like my man Jack in the The Shining," he smiled again and Rachael shook her head at him. _What's up with her? I remember her laughing at my references at one point. She even made a couple herself._

"Dean," his eyes snapped up to Sam, Rachael beside him with her arms crossed. "When are we going to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Dean raised an eyebrow, uncomprehending.

"About the fact that Dad's not here," he pointed out.

"Oh," he paused, as if thinking. "I see. How 'bout…never."

"I'm being serious, man. He sent us here…"

"So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later."

"It doesn't matter what he wants."

Dean turned to face him, "See," he noted. "That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie."

"Dad could be in trouble," Sam argued, not seeing the reason behind his stubbornness, "we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about."

Rachael peered between the two, remaining quiet. It was honestly none of her business. _Still, I can't help but wonder what Dean's game is. I figured he'd do anything to see his father safe, but instead he's following the orders, which I also don't understand since Mr. Winchester isn't here. What's the purpose of this mission?_

"Sanford Ellicott," she snapped out of her thoughts, looking up at Dean who was holding a sign. "…You know what we gotta do. We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here," he walked off, leaving the sign with her and Sam, who stared down at it with a frown.

She patted him on the shoulder, "I'm sure there's a reason behind Dean's actions," she reassured him. "A good reason," she smiled up at him. "Come along, let's go find out more about this place. Then we'll come back and kick some spirit-butt."

Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless as he followed her off towards the exit.

S.S

Sam sat on a waiting room couch, flicking nonchalantly through a magazine.

"Sam Winchester?"

Sam lifted his head to see a man, Dr. Ellicott, standing at his open door, "That's me."

"Come on in," Dr. Ellicott waved him over, moving into the inner room, Sam entering a moment later.

"Thanks again for seeing me last minute," he stated, peering around the room, catching a name. "Dr…Ellicott. Ellicott, that name. Wasn't there a…a Dr. Sanford Ellicott?" he nodded slowly. "Yeah, he was chief psychiatrist somewhere."

"My father was a chief of staff at the old Roosevelt Asylum. How did you know?"

"Ah. Well, I'm sorta…a local history buff. Hey, wasn't there an incident or something? In the hospital, I guess. In the sound wing, right?"

"We're on your dollar, Sam," Dr. Ellicott replied instead, ignoring his questions. "We're here to talk about you."

"Oh, okay," Sam said. _Yep, this guy definitely knows something. _"Yeah, yeah. Sure."

"So," he began. "How's things?"

"Ah, things are good, doctor."

"Good. Whatcha being doing?"

"Ahh, same old. I just been on a…on a road trip with my brother."

"Was that fun?"

Sam paused, processing his next words, "Loads," he eventually settled on. "Umm…you know, we…ahh…we…met….a lot of…interesting people. Recently a childhood friend of his, she's travelling with us now. She's very…interesting. Also did a lot of…uh…interesting things…ahhh. You know? What was it exactly that happened in the south wing? I forget…"

"Look," Dr. Ellicott stared at him blankly, "if you're a local history buff, you know all about the Roosevelt riot."

"The riot," he shook his head. "Well, no. I know. I'm just curious."

"Sam. Let's cut the bull, shall we. You're avoiding the subject."

"What subject?"

Dr. Ellicott leaned forwards slightly, "You," he pointed. "Now I'll make a deal. I'll tell you all about the Roosevelt riot, if you tell me something honest about yourself. Like, uh, this brother and his friend you're road tripping with. How do you feel about them?"

Sam just stared at him. He could picture Rachael shaking her head at him, telling him that she was right. Confidence _is_ key with psychologist.

-D.S-

Dean leaned against the glass windows next to Dr. Ellicott's office whilst Rachael was sitting on the couch Sam was previously, apparently in thought. He eyed her for a moment, "Hey," he called, "you remember that time I fell out of that tree?"

Rachael raised her head, raising an eyebrow at him, "Which time? The third, fourth, fifth?"

He blinked, "Did I really fall out five times?"

"Yep," she nodded, "though I may have helped a once or twice," a smile crossed her lips, which he returned. He'd never admit it aloud, save the embarrassment she'd force on him, but he was…happy…to have her back. _Guess you never realize how much you miss someone until you've put a couple of years between each other. Though, I guess that was a bad idea, given how distant she is now…_

It was part of the reason why he was a bit peeved at all the attention she was giving Sam.

The door beside him opened and Sam strided past. He glanced at Rachael, who shrugged, before they both sped up to match his pace, "Dude!" he called. "You were in there forever. What the hell were you talking about?"

"Just the hospital, you know," Sam simply said. Rachael examined him for a moment. She had experience with psychologist, given how she had to accompany her brother on more than a few of his own trips, so it was easy for her to tell when there was more to the story than being said. _There's definitely more to his story._

"So, what did Dr. Ellicott say about the hospital?" she questioned, choosing not to interrogate him. It wouldn't be right, since he barely knew her.

"Well, regarding the south wing," Sam explained. "It's where they housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane."

"Sounds cozy," Dean remarked.

"Yeah," he shook his head. "And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other."

"That sounds horrifying to have to witness," Rachael thought out loud. "But it's no surprise."

"They _were_ criminally insane," Dean agreed.

"No," she corrected. "What I meant was, it's no surprise because given their condition, they were bound to attack out of fear. Insanity is a mind disease. It keeps everyone including you out until you finally crack…."

"Didn't think of it that way," Sam admitted, "You know, that it keeps you out as well…I guess that's understandable…"

She just shrugged, saying no more on the subject.

"So," Dean interrupted, turning their attention to him, "Any deaths?"

"Some patients, some staff," Sam told him. "I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott."

"Whaddaya mean, never recovered?"

"Cops scoured every inch of the place but I guess the patients must've…stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden."

"That's grim."

"Yeah," Sam made a face, agreeing. "So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down."

"So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies," Dean stated.

"And a horde of vindictive, lone-wandering, spirits," Rachael added.

"Good times," he sighed and looked between her and Sam. "Let's check out the hospital tonight."

Sam noted Rachael's less than pleased expression.

-D.S-

Sam pushed open the door to the asylum, Rachael beside him and Dean beside her. She held a flashlight whilst Sam was holding onto a video camera and Dean an EMF meter, "Getting readings?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean reported, "big time," he glanced at Rachael, seeing no trace of fear on her face. It worried him a lot more than he expected.

"This place is orbing like crazy," Sam commented, bringing him out of his musings.

"Probably multiple spirits out and about," he replied.

"And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…"

"We gotta find 'em and burn 'em. Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit…is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer."

"I've always wanted to see a spirit," Rachael remarked. "Never thought I'd be going through an insane asylum to get that wish, though."

"Welcome to the Hunting Life," Sam took a breath.

"Thanks for having me," she responded, earning another eye roll from him.

Dean pursed his lips at the couple as they continued on, ignoring their buddy-buddy conversation. The trio didn't notice a crazed-looking bald man standing in the corner as they passed.

-D.S-

Sam, Rachael, and Dean looked around the halls, Dean and Sam moving into separate rooms. Rachel stared after Sam before she headed into the room after him, "Hey," she spoke quietly enough for only his ears. "You…you saw what happened back at your house, didn't you?"

Sam glanced at her, "Um, I don't know what you're referring to," he said. "All I saw was you faint suddenly."

She turned to face him, "Listen," she pointed at him warningly, "do not under any circumstances tell Dean what you saw that day. He's already overprotective as it is. I'm surprised he let me come here with you both instead of sitting up in a motel room."

"I won't say anything," he promised and averted his eyes. "It's not like he's revealing anything to me, so what do I have to tell him?" he let out a breath. "Will you at least explain to me what that was?"

She turned her head, "I would if I could, but I can't, so I can't," she simply said. "However, I can tell you it started after my father died and my brother slowly swiveled down the psychotic path…" she furrowed her brow, staring off behind him, "Duck."

"What?" he blinked and threw himself to the ground as she pulled a gun from her coat, shooting once at the woman behind him, watching as she disintegrated. She put the weapon back.

They heard footsteps and looked over to see Dean standing at the doorway, "What happened?!" he questioned, eyeing Sam on the ground. "Why are you on the floor?"

"A spirit," Rachael told him, "A white-haired woman with one bloody, dangling, eye."

"Why didn't you call me in here?" he narrowed his eyes. Rachael shot Sam a look as he stood to his feet, "I was in the next room," his eyes travelled between the two. "I heard a gun-shot."

"Well, we are in an insane asylum," she retorted. "You're bound to hear a lot of strange things. I wouldn't be surprised if someone screamed," with that she moved out of the room. Dean stared pointedly at Sam, who shrugged before hurrying off after her.

"Well, that proves it, doesn't it?" Dean murmured to himself. Secrets and now lies…something they both swore to never touch when it came to each other. Now the promise was broken.

-D.S-

Dean watched as Sam and Rachael stood up ahead, waiting and talking amongst themselves. He bit his tongue as he approached them, swiveling around as a noise sounded from the room next to them. He held up his shotgun and Rachael shined the torch into the room. They approached a metal bed covered in ragged sheets. Upon closer inspection, they saw the top of a blonde head behind it. Dean held out his hand towards Rachael, stopping her from moving forwards. She glared at his hand for a minute and then softened her resolve, internally sighing.

She watched as Sam reached out and tipped the bed over, revealing a young girl hiding in the corner. She spun around, gasping in fright, "It's alright," Dean held out his hands, "we're not going to hurt you. It's okay. What's your name?"

"Katherine," she told him. "Kat."

"Okay," he smiled a bit to ease her apparent fright. "I'm Dean," he nodded at Sam, "that's Dean," his eyes landed on Rachael, frowning to see her back facing them, "Uh, Rachael?"

Rachael bit her lip, turning back around to look down at the girl, "Hello," she greeted. "May I ask what you are doing here, exactly?"

"Um," Kat stumbled. "My boyfriend, Gavin."

"Is he here?" Dean questioned.

"Somewhere," she informed. "He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just… you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and…"

"Alright," he cut in. "Kat?" he reached out to help her up. "Come on. Sam's gunna get you out of here and then we're gunna find your boyfriend."

"No!" she shook her head rapidly. "No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you."

"It's not joke around here, okay. It's dangerous."

"That's why I gotta find him."

Dean and Sam shared a look and Sam shrugged, "Alright," Dean eventually said, "I guess we gunna split up then," he grinned at Rachael. "Rachael, you're tagging along with me."

Rachael smiled at him, "Wonderful," she remarked.

"What if she wants to come with me?" Sam spoke up, earning a surprised look from her. He smiled a bit at her and she chuckled, understanding his game. It was rather sweet, considering the circumstances.

Dean felt his jaw tense and he relaxed before he spun around, "Well," he said, mock-happily, "I'd rather be the one to watch after her. Always have, always will. Remember what Mom said."

Rachael frowned in confusion, "What did your mom say?"

He blinked, finding him at a loss of explanation, "Uh, I'll tell you later," he took hold of her hand and pulled her along out the door. "Let's go."

-D.S-

Kat peered through a couple of doors and windows, "Gavin?" she called. "Gavin?"

Sam glanced at her, "I'm sorry this happened to you," he said.

She turned to face him, "It's not like it's your fault," she shrugged.

"Well, yeah, but if you'd gone with my brother he'd probably have not, so?" he laughed lightly.

"Your brother," she paused. "Are he and that other girl…?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "I know it's none of my business, but I was just reminded of how Gavin and I were, because there are three types of protective. Friendly, Loving, and Family. FLF."

Sam shook his head, "No," he replied, "they're not together, they're just friends. It's been a while since they saw each other, so I'm not surprised that he's…protective."

It wasn't a total lie. Dean was the protecting type, but he'd never seen him get that defensive over anyone but his family, him and his father being included.

-D.S-

Dean and Rachael moved down a hall, checking their surroundings every few seconds. Dean watched her from the corner of his eye, "Remember that time we were playing hide-n-seek at the cemetery?" he asked and she looked at him, telling him she was listening. "And we weren't supposed to be there?"

Rachael rolled her eyes, chuckling at the memory, "When we got back home, our parents were so relieved and mad," she let out a breath, the reminder bringing back the reality of her situation. Her parents were gone, her brother was gone, she was alone in the world without family. Sure she had aunts, cousins, and uncles, but nothing beat coming home to see the people you spent your whole life with.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and smiled a bit up Dean, "Someone's growing soft of me," she remarked and he took his hand off.

"Soft?" he scoffed and held up his shotgun. "Does this say 'soft' to you?"

She laughed and turned around, just as she tripped over a body on the ground. She felt Dean's hands on her arms before she hit the ground. He pulled her back and up and they both stared at the unconscious figure, "I believe that may be Gavin," she noted.

"Ya think?" he retorted and crouched down, shaking him roughly. Gavin's eyes snapped open and he jolted away from them, a frightened look upon his face, "Hey, hey," Dean held up his hands. "It's going to be alright. We're here to help you."

"Who are you?" Gavin questioned warily.

"My name is Rachael," Rachael introduced, "that right there is Dean…"

"So I'm a 'that' now?" Dean interrupted.

She shot him a look, "Shush," she smiled at Gavin. "We found your girlfriend, Katherine earlier. She's with Sam, Dean's brother."

"Kat?" Gavin sat up quickly, his eyes wide. "Is she alright?"

"I'm sure she is," she reassured him. "She was worried about you when we found her, hiding behind a bed," she shook her head. "The question is, are _you_ alright?"

"I was running," he recalled. "I think I fell."

"Running from what exactly?" Dean inquired.

"There was…" he swallowed, "there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up."

"Did she hurt you?" Rachael asked.

"What?" he shook his head rapidly. "No, she…uh…"

Dean frowned, "She what?"

"She…" he bit his lip, "…she kissed me."

"EW," he remarked, his face twisting into slight disgust, "Can't imagine anyone being desperate enough for that," he halted, thoughtful. "Wait, was she a hot chick?"

Rachael hit him in his shoulder, earning a look from him, "Of course you'd ask that out of all questions to be considered," she countered with a roll of her eyes. She placed a hand on Gavin's shoulder. "That must've disturbed you."

"I'm scarred for life," he emphasized.

"Well, let's be glad she just kissed you, she could've done something a whole lot worse," she told him and crossed her arms. "Do you remember anything else? Anything important? Did she do after she kissed you?"

"She uh…actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear."

"What?" Dean questioned.

"I don't know," Gavin shrugged. "I ran like hell."

-D.S-

Sam led the way through another corridor, Kat behind him, pausing as his torch faded. He shook it and hit his hand on it, "Great," he murmured.

Kat turned to look behind them, wincing, "Ow," she said. "You're hurting my arm."

"What?" he frowned as she did, both seeing the distance between them proving her claim to be impossible. Their eyes wandered down to see a disembodied hand clutching her arm. She gasped as she was dragged into a room, the metal door slamming behind her. Sam dashed over to it, struggling to pull it open as she banged on it from the inside, but still the door did not budge.

"Lemme out!" she screamed. "Please!"

"Kat!" he yelled. "Hold on! I'll get you out of there!"

He whipped around, spotting a metal pipe and quickly slammed it into the open space of the door, trying to jimmy it open. Kat slowly backed away from the door, stopping as heavy breathing sounded behind her. She spun around, spotting no one. Sam banged on the door, averting her attention in its direction to see a figure. A tall, heavyset, oily-haired, bloody-faced figure. She screamed and skidded back to the door, only to bump into him. She screamed again.

"What's going on?!" Dean questioned, running down the hall with Rachael and Gavin. "Where's Kat?"

"She's inside the room," Sam informed them. "I'm guessing one of the spirits decided to show up."

"Help me!" Kat screamed.

"Kat!" Gavin ran up to the door, banging on it.

She slid down against the door as the ghost approached, "Get me outta here!" she begged, her voice cracking.

Rachael frowned and walked up to the door, "Kat," she called, calmly, "listen to me. I know this may sound crazy, but you've got to calm yourself down. Calm down and listen to it, whatever it wants to say to you, listen."

"She's gotta what?!" Dean blinked rapidly, as if he hadn't heard right.

"No," Sam shook his head, "she's right," he pressed a soft hand on the door. "Kat, calm down. You've got to face it, it's the only way."

"There's a reason why these spirits have not killed either of you yet," Rachael explained. "Why the girl tried to tell Gavin something instead of ridding of him, why you're still alive even though it's been more than a minute. They're not trying to hurt you guys, they're not trying to hurt anybody, they want to tell you something, something important. Face it and listen."

"You face it!" Kat yelled, fright lacing her voice.

"No!" Sam responded. "It's the only way to get out of there."

"No!"

"Look at it, come on. You can do it."

Kat swallowed and took a couple of deep breaths before she faced the ghost. He leaned in close to her face as he whispered something.

Gavin frowned, worry crossing his features, "Kat?" he called.

"Man, I hope you two are right about this," Dean said.

"Yeah, me too," Sam replied.

Rachael didn't respond, instead she waited with her arms crossed as silence washed over the room. Eventually, the sound of a lock clicking sounded and the door slowly opened. Kat stood in the doorway.

"Oh, Kat," Gavin rushed over and pulled her into a hug, which she returned happily.

Sam ran inside the room, coming back out a minute later and shaking his head. There was nothing inside, no ghost, no nothing.

"One thirty-seven," Kat suddenly said, making them all look at her.

"Sorry?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"It whispered in my ear," she told him. "137."

"Room number," he, Sam, and Rachael all said in unison. They all looked at one another before they huddled together, speaking in a low tone so as not to be heard.

"Alright," Sam said. "So if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone…"

"Then what are they trying to do?" Dean asked.

"Maybe it has something to do with why they're all stuck here," Rachael suggested. "Perhaps they just want to leave and can't…"

"I guess we'll find out," he said.

"Alright," Sam nodded and the trio looked over at Kat and Gavin.

"So," Dean smiled, "now, are you guys ready to leave this place?"

"That's an understatement," Kat simply said.

"Okay," he addressed Sam and Rachael, "You guys get them outta here. I'm going to go find room 137."

Rachael scoffed, "No," she shook her head, "you're not going by yourself. I don't care if you've been hunting for a billion years. You should _never_ hunt alone, it's the golden rule if you didn't know. Things are always better when you're with someone."

"Rachael, look-" he began.

"Nope," she cut him off and whipped around. "I'm going with you, besides I want to see what's in that room that's keeping all these spirits here. If that's the case, that is," she grinned and headed off, leaving the rest of them staring after her. Sam smiled amusedly at Dean's expression.

"She's remarkable, isn't she?" he commented.

Dean glared at him, mumbling something incoherent underneath his breath, and followed after Rachael.

-D.S-

I'm going to end it here for now. Why? Because at the end of the next part there's going to be a scenario between Rachael and Sam that's very interesting if I must say and I'd rather leave it till them. Besides, my Wi-Fi has been acting up and keeps booting me out, which is why I couldn't update yesterday. So, I'm updating right now…also we have some snow coming in, so that might knock out the Wi-Fi…

Speaking of updating, I will not be updating in three days like I normally do, majority of the time since the beginning…actually, I don't know when I'll be updating because of my busy schedule. School, community service, etc. So, this story will be put on hiatus for a while, sorry, but it's either this or Doctor Who…which I prefer not to do ;)

Who loves protective Dean? I know I do, especially now that Sam has it in his head that there may be something else behind that protectiveness. Prepare for more interestingness!

Rachael, you and your sass…Dean, you're going to get a lot of that. Haha.

Reviews!

Mionerocks: Thank you!


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